you will be missed, my boy.
Charlie’s favorite spot: Under the bed….
his 2nd favorite spot…on top of my bed.
Well, today started off a little strangely because I didn’t have to be anywhere by a certain time. It was fuckin awesome. (no offense to my ex-fellow-co-workers. I know you understand.) When my alarm went off I woke up all on my own, I leisurely made a pot of coffee, then savored each cup as I checked my email and listened to Matt Lauer interview the dude who fell 45 feet off his skateboard.
After I showered, I dropped Charlie off at the vet and took the boys to Memphis on the hunt for uniforms. Khaki pants for Ian and navy thank-god-I’m-only-9-cuz-otherwise-i’d-never-get-laid workman pants for Rader. Both wear white knit tops. I promised to buy Ian a couple of pair of real pants instead of the typical Target uniform khakis, so we went to American Eagle first. My baby can wear a size 28 waist now. He’s all grown up. *sniff*
After our shop-a-palooza we went to Steak-n-Shake for a late lunch. Yummy.
While we’re driving back to Oxford, I get a call from our vet. Dr. Bart is a great guy, but I could tell he had some not so great news. (backstory, Charlie has this growth on his throat that has steadily gotten larger and larger. It has been tested several times and so far, no cancer) Well, Dr. Bart doesn’t know what it is still, but he knows it needs to come out because Charlie is struggling to breathe. However, because this growth is located on his throat, the prognosis isn’t great. He might not be able to remove the growth and if he does, there’s a very high probability Charlie won’t make it. He’s going to call me tomorrow after he opens Charles up to let me know.
This breaks my heart because Charlie found us. He adopted us. And no matter what a pain in the ass he can be (he’s part monkey, doesn’t like to stay in the fence) he’s still MY dog. He loves me endlessly. And I love him. And tomorrow, I might lose him. That sucks sweaty moose balls.
On a good note, tomorrow I get to see my friend Bevan who has been living in Kathmandu for the past nine months. I’ve put off heading to Little Rock a day just so I can see him. I can’t wait. Maybe he’ll be a bright spot in what could be a really bad day.
Today is the end of an era. I’m leaving the cozy comfort of a steady paycheck and jumping head first into the murky pond of full-time writing.
It’s bittersweet, really. I have been working at the same place for almost 7 years and I’ve been in the corporate world for much longer. Those of you who have worked in Corporate America know that the movie Office Space is unfortunately, very true to life.
I won’t miss that part.
But I will miss my friends and daily human interaction. Starting next week, I’ll have lots of daily interaction with imaginary people…many of whom happen to be vampires. Could be tricky. Especially when the line between imaginary and real begins to blur…
This is the beginning of a dream come true…but in many ways, it’s a scary dream. I have to watch my spending (what???? I’ll be in a city with malls and a Target and I can’t shop???) I’ll have to put myself on a writing schedule (what??? I can’t do the when it feels right I’ll do it method anymore?) and I’ll have to be a single parent for a while until the house sells. Totally weird.
Anyway, to my friends: Don’t forget about me! I’ll miss you!
After watching Music & Lyrics last night, I can’t get this song out of my head!
Wasn’t Hugh Grant just an 80s dream? POP! Goes my heart….
Of course, Fishdog had to outdo me and put together a family portrait…
I apparently owe my youngest child an apology. He wanted to be a yellow simpson…so I’ve redone his character.
My bad, Rader. Hope you will forgive me. 
For the record, this one is much more in line with Rader’s personality…
Oh, and just for shits and giggles, I redid mine, too:
This is me, all dressed up.
Fishdog and I went to see the White Stripes last night in Southaven.
Awesome fucking show. The pics I’m posting are from my cellphone. I didn’t think to bring my real camera. Sigh.
It was great to watch these two perform.
There is something mesmerizing about the White Stripes. Meg isn’t the greatest drummer in the world, but she is amazing to watch. Her style is stripped down and basic, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t passion in her playing.
Jack’s passion was apparent as he was all over the stage. There were a half a dozen microphones set up in various places and Jack would run, hop, leap, jump and sweat his way over to each one.
We were on the third row which added to excitement of the show. I don’t know if I would’ve gotten as much out of the performance if I hadn’t been able to see their faces. It was obvious they love their job.
There’s something magical about watching an artist do his job with passion. Musicians especially. If they love what they do, it pours out into their audience. I’ve always liked The White Stripes, but after last night, I think I can call myself a fan.
PS: I posted my answers to the friend test in the comments
Okay, to follow Louisa’s lead, I’ve decided to offer a test to see if you can be my friend. Some of you may not pass, and for that, I’m truly sorry. Just know that I loved you once.
Of course, my test isn’t nearly as classy as Louisa’s. Mine is more like the idiots guide to pop culture.
Choose one on each
Manboy: I wants me some turkey.
Group: You said you was a vegetarian.
Manboy: I am. I don’t eat fried chicken.
On the way out to my car two fratboys get out of their SUV deep into their conversation.
Fratboy1: Dude. She did the inverted splits.
Fratboy2: No effin’ way. (he said effin’)
Fratboy1: Totally. Inverted. Splits. Man the things I did to her that night. And she was upside down!
Fratboy2: Like a circus freak. Dude, you’re the master.
Bitchin' Fiction: Musings by author Melissa McKenzie / Melissa Francis 